


The Van Der Linde Gang

by obamamamama



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - COVID-19 pandemic is coming to an end, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crimes & Criminals, Gang Violence, Gangs, Homophobia, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obamamamama/pseuds/obamamamama
Summary: ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━2020. The year is coming to an end. The short-lived COVID-19 pandemic is coming to an end, and it seems as if everything is looking up. The country is beginning to thrive both economically wise and socially wise, and everyone is feeling optimistic and crawling out of their unmotivated shells.Everyone including the Van der Linde Gang, who were thought to have disbanded long ago.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Kudos: 2





	1. Ⅰ

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Optimistic.

That's one word to describe how the Van der Linde Gang felt. After 6 years of hiding up north in the mountains of Alberta, they were finally ready to leave. The Federal Government had finally forgotten about them. They were ready to return to the United States. The supposed 'land of opportunity'. 

High ranking gunman Arthur Morgan slipped out of his bed, his cracked LG smartphone nestled deep into the rigid palm of his hand. He blinked, tapping the cracked screen of the phone with his thumb, the familiar wallpaper of the Rocky Mountains landscape popping up on the screen. It was 8:32 a.m., about time to leave. Arthur grunted and stood up, stretching, the sound of his bones cracking practically echoing across the shallow and empty apartment room of his. He smiled softly. Finally, they were leaving this decrepit and worn out complex. 

He sighed softly, sliding his phone into the pocket of his jeans. Yes, he sleeps in his jeans. Why would you even be surprised? He's Arthur Morgan, after all. Arthur stepped over to his bedside table and picked up a shirt he had laid there the previous night so that he was ready to leave in the morning. He slipped it on with ease, before slipping on his iconic pair of worn-out, black cowboy boots. He then walked over to the front door of his apartment, twisting the door knob and pulling it open. He stepped out of the room and began to walk down the hallway towards the staircase, the sound of his boots colliding with the hardwood floor echoing throughout the hallway. 

He was in the midst of walking down the staircase before receiving a text message. He pulled out his phone and turned it on, unlocking it with the simple swipe of his thumb. He tapped on the 'Messages' app to check what the text read. It was from Dutch van der Linde, leader of the gang and one of Arthur's closest friends. 'We're ready 2 leave, hurry up'. Arthur chuckled, tapping a quick 'ok' into his keyboard back before turning off his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. For being such an inspirational speaker, Dutch had always been so blunt and shallow with his texts. It somewhat.. amused Morgan. He doesn't know why, but it makes him laugh inside. 

Arthur walked outside of the complex, immediately shivering due to the harsh winter weather of Canada. Snowflakes blew into his face as he walked towards the trio of vans the Van der Linde Gang traveled in. He muttered a quick curse as he walked over to the first van, gripping the handle of said door and letting go, the door automatically opening. He pulled himself in, sitting down on the seat closest to the door, before pulling the door shut. "Easy, Arthur," A somewhat annoyed sounding voice came from up front. Dutch. "We can't afford to fix those goddamn doors with you slammin' 'em shut like that- they are automatic, you know." Arthur grumbled in response, Dutch's iconic cackle echoing throughout the vehicle shortly after. Dutch gripped the wheel of the van, pulling out his phone and opening it, opening up the messages app and tapping over to the group chat the Van der Linde Gang shared. He texted something to the group chat, most likely a confirmation that they were leaving. He then turned off his phone and slipped it back into his pocket, before applying pressure to the accelerator pedal, the van beginning to go forward, driving down the long path leading to the complex they had stayed in for the meanwhile. Finally, they were on their way.

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	2. Ⅱ

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Arthur," Dutch's voice echoed throughout the dreamscape Arthur sat in. A campfire sat in front of Arthur, the bright orange flames going high into the air. Morgan sighed, his turquoise gaze fixated on the bright flames. Until Dutch's voice snapped him back to reality. "Arthur."

Arthur grunted, his eyes fluttering open. The sun shined through the frosted car window as he sat up, a yawn escaping his lips. He glanced out of the window. They were at a border entrance. Christ, how long was he out for..?

"Arthur, hand me the passports." Dutch commanded, his hand reaching out towards Arthur. Morgan blinked, unsure of what Dutch exactly wanted, but then his brain fart suddenly concluded. He reached into the bag nearest to him and pulled out Dutch's dark blue passport. He handed it to him before leaning back into his comfortable chair.

Dutch handed the passport off to the border patrol agent standing inside of the tollbooth adjacent to the van he and Arthur were in. After stamping something onto the passport, the border patrol agent handed the passport back to Dutch. He handed the passport back to Arthur, before driving through the passage. They were finally back in the United States. Arthur stared at the 'Welcome to Montana' sign on the side of the road, a soft smile crossing his lips.

"Finally, we're back," Dutch said, chuckling softly, before glancing at the rearview mirror, drowsy Morgan in his sights. "Arthur, Strauss and Trelawny were generous enough to set up a place to stay for us. It's some 2-story brick building in the outskirts of.. Helena. I'm gonna need you to help Bill and John unload our stuff, alright?" 

Arthur grumbled in response, stretching. Funnily enough, that was the best night of sleep he had gotten in a LONG time, even with sleeping in that godforsaken apartment complex they had stayed in previously. Dutch chuckled, before reaching over to the knob, twisting it to the right, the volume of the music they were listening to substantially going up. Arthur immediately recognized what song the chorus belonged to- Holy Toledo by Vundabar. One of his favorite bands. Morgan chuckled, closing his eyes.

'I know, yes yep, I know  
I know, yes yep, I know  
I know, yes yep, I know'

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Arthur woke up, taking a moment to adjust to the bright lights shining at the window of the van. They were driving down some sort of desolate road, although he could see the skyline of a city right in front of them. Were they in Helena yet?

Suddenly, the van pulled into a parking lot. The van turned off, and an 'ahem' could be heard from the front of the vehicle. Arthur directed his attention towards the origin of the sound- Dutch. "We're here, Arthur," Dutch said, before opening the door of the van, stepping outside. The snow had stopped falling, but it was still substantially cold regardless. Morgan grumbled and pulled the handle of the automatic door, stepping outside once he did so. He walked over to the ginormous group of people surrounding the trunk of the third van. Arthur walked through the crowd and gripped a random suitcase, before walking over to the open doorway of the complex, where Bill Williamson awaited him.

"Morn'n, sleeping beauty," Williamson greeted him, a sneer on his face. "How'd ya sleep?"

"Shut up." Arthur grumbled in response as he walked past him, making sure to bump into him as he did so. He sauntered down the hallway, before pausing. He didn't know where to put the damn suitcase. He glanced at the name tag stitched onto the suitcase, reading it- Abigail's.

Morgan sighed and set the suitcase in front of some random doorway, glancing back over to Bill. 

"I'll handle this, Morgan. You go get another bag." Bill said. Arthur nodded before making his way over to the front door, gripping the doorknob and pushing the door open.

Where a bundle of police cars and flashing red and blue lights met his eyesight.

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**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think of my writing so far! Is there anything I should improve on? Tell me in the comments below!


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